


Reflected

by red_crate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Pierced Stiles, Prompt Fic, Scent Marking, not smut, sexy cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:13:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: There was a time when Peter wasn't sure he would ever get this kind of lazy intimacy again.Stiles squirms, making yummy noises that morph into irritation. He tugs at his hair until Peter has no choice but to let go of the abused nipple. “I like sex and I like food, but I'm not too sure about trying both at the same time, especially when we're talking flaky pastries.”





	Reflected

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the August 2017 Steter Network prompt 'silver.'
> 
> I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with what exactly I wanted to write for last month's prompt to no avail. The other day, I showed Twisted_Mind [this (nsfw) photo](http://fancymen.tumblr.com/post/164236048622/jeremykah-mondays-are-the-worst) of a guy who could easily be inspiration for Stiles with nipple peircings. And I got a bit hung up on the idea, realized it fit with the prompt, and then churned this short thing out today. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When Peter gets home, he finds Stiles still in bed even though it is almost noon. He leans against the door frame and watches Stiles read something on his phone.

Stiles is lying on his back, shirtless, with the sheet twisted loosely around his waist and legs. Peter looks on as Stiles absently sweeps a thumb over his nipple while he concentrates. Back and forth, back and forth. Both of his nipples are pebbled up, exposed to the cool air, and the metal of his piercings glint in the light spilling across the bed from the windows. Stiles shifts his legs, one bent at the knee and the other falling to the side. Peter knows exactly how inviting that looks beneath the sheet, bare legs and sans underwear. It's just as enticing like this too.

“Honey, I'm home,” Peter croons quietly, smiling a little when Stiles startles and drops his phone on his face.

He almost feels bad about it.

“God. Fuck you and your stealth.” Stiles tosses his phone onto the bedside table, and sits up to face Peter. His mild annoyance loses all effect thanks to the stubble on his jaw and his disheveled hair. He looks particularly adorable like this, soft around the edges from sleep. Peter clocks the exact moment Stiles catches sight of the bag of pastries in his hand.

Stiles’ features light up with excitement, and he bounces a little. “I mean: I love you and everything you do.” He beckons Peter forward with a quick wave of a hand, eyes trained on the small bag.

Smirking, Peter strides in the room until he gets to the bed where he sits down. He holds the bag out of Stiles’ reach, enjoying the pout that earns.

“Not so fast,” he darts in to press a kiss along the side of Stiles’ throat, “what's the magic word?”

Stiles ignores the question and gets up onto his knees and reaches for the bag. “Give it.”

He smirks down at Peter, maneuvering until he's straddling Peter's lap. It's a completely unfair and distracting move, more so once Stiles braces a hand on Peter's shoulder to lean and reach for Peter's hand which is held out as far away as possible.

Truly, Peter has only one course of action available to him here.

Letting go of the bag, he closes the distance and takes one of Stiles’ nipples in his mouth. He's gratified by the hand on his shoulder moving to come grip the back of his head and hold him close. Stiles lets out a quiet groan when he rolls his tongue over the small piece of metal piercing the nub.

“You got me the cheese one.” Peter can hear the shape of Stiles’ smile when he speaks. His scent is warm, content, and a little aroused.

Peter breathes deeply through his nose as he scrapes his bottom teeth over the flesh and metal. Instead of answering the obvious—of course Peter remembered Stiles’ favorite danish pastry—he wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulls the two of them flush, sucking lightly at Stiles' nipple. He relishes the firm nudge where Stiles is getting hard against him, interested but not demanding.

There was a time when Peter wasn't sure he would ever get this kind of lazy intimacy again.

Stiles squirms, making yummy noises that morph into irritation. He tugs at his hair until Peter has no choice but to let go of the abused nipple. “I like sex and I like food, but I'm not too sure about trying both at the same time, especially when we're talking flaky pastries.”

Stiles has icing and tiny bits of said danish on his lips when Peter looks at his face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly, and does a little happy wiggle. It's cute. “Fuck  _ me _ , this is so good,” he moans, speaking through another mouthful of food. That's a little less cute considering Peter can see the contents of his mouth.

“I've failed you, if you don't think sex and food can mix spectacularly,” Peter kisses along Stiles’ throat, riding the movement when Stiles swallows. He's jumping from mole to mole, dragging the end of his nose along the sensitive skin.

“This danish is as good as sex,” Stiles counters, flicking a teasing glance down at Peter. He smooths Peter's hair around one ear. “Do the other one.” He tugs the ends of Peter's hair. His direction comes out a little petulant, reminding Peter of Stiles’ interesting little need to have sensations even out.

He hums as if he's considering ignoring Stiles’ demand, before reaching up to take hold of the other piercing between thumb and forefinger. Peter carefully twists it just so, until Stiles is hissing and rising up on his knees fully again. Peter releases it, then does it once more. Both nipples are dark red and peaked, contrasting nicely with the silver of the barbells. Peter presses forward and takes the nipple in his mouth, tracing with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it shallowly.

Stiles is breathing quickly now, and he has stopped eating. When he lets go with one last lick, Peter realizes Stiles finished the pastry and dropped the bag to the floor.

He hugs Stiles close to him, falling backwards onto the bed, and kicking off his shoes. “You're a slob,” he complains, though Peter is pretty sure he's got an adoring look on his face right now as he wipes at Stiles’ mouth with his fingers.

Stiles licks his lips, catching the very tips of Stiles’ fingers along the way. “Yup.” He knows exactly how much he has Peter wrapped around his little finger. His smile is less shit-eating and more playful.

Growling in mock annoyance, Peter drops his fangs and presses his teeth to the soft underside of Stiles’ jaw. He soars at the sound of Stiles laughing. They're both half hard, lust and love mingling in their scents— _ Peter&Stiles _ —but neither try escalating things. They just lie together, existing, holding each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](http://the-redcrate.tumblr.com).


End file.
